


Dominance and Submission

by Steel_Feather



Category: tom holland - Fandom
Genre: BDSM the way it SHOULD be done, F/M, Light Bondage, Side-eyeing you 50 shades, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steel_Feather/pseuds/Steel_Feather
Summary: Tom lets slip that he likes when his girlfriend is a little dominant. Things escalate from there.





	Dominance and Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, I read Tom as a happy switch, but that being said... I think he could get really into subbing.

In the six months you and Tom had been dating, he had proven over and over that he was full of surprises. However, nothing could have fully prepared you for one rainy afternoon's revelation.

You and Tom are lounging on your couch, picking out something to watch on Netflix. It's a rare lazy day, the kind both of you treasure.

After you choose a movie, you look over at Tom and suddenly he's just too far away.

"Babe," you whine. He doesn't seem to hear you.

"Tom!"

He jumps a little and turns to you, posture changing.

"Get over here, babe," you demand, "Put your head in my lap."

With a strange expression on his face, he lays down facing the television with his head in your lap. You play with his hair and the two of you watch television in silence for a few moments.

There's an odd tension coming from him that you can't place, but you assume he'll tell you when he's ready.

"Can I confess something, darling?" he asks softly.

"Of course, Tom," you assure him.

When he speaks again, you have to lean down close to catch his words.

"I rather... like it when you're bossy."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean... when you tell me what to do... it's kind of..." he pauses. "Hot."

"Oh," you say, then, " _Oh_. Are you referring to what I think you are?"

He turns up to face you, eyes dark and soft.

"I think so, love. I've never..." He trails off, and all kinds of puzzle pieces start to fall into place in your head.

"I understand, Tom," you say, and he sighs deeply in relief.

"I mean, we don't have to do anything just yet," he says hastily, and you swallow back your disappointment. "I've just been thinking about it lately."

You nod slowly. "Okay, Tom. I'll keep it in mind."

He turns back to the television as if he hasn't just thrown you a curveball of epic proportions, commenting on a character's plot development casually.

That night, he makes love to you softly, like he's worshipping your body, but even through two orgasms, you can't stop thinking about what he said.

Tom has to leave on a press tour for an entire week only a couple of days later, and you get an idea.

Not wanting to waste any time, you pour yourself into research and order a couple of very special items. Though it's been a couple years, you've subbed before and you know how a submissive should be treated.

Somehow, the week drags by as you firm up the details of your plan. Almost too soon, your apartment door is turning as Tom enters, and you have to press your legs together as you think of the small bag you have stashed under your bed.

"I'm home," he calls, and you still melt every time you hear him say that.

Making every move fluid, you rise off the couch and walk toward him, hips swaying. His eyes widen.

You're wearing clothes you _could_ go out in, but only just. Your blouse is unbuttoned far enough to give a generous view of the cleavage that's pushed up by a frankly amazing bra, and the long, slim skirt you wear has a slit that goes all the way to the top of your thigh. Your hair is mussed enough to give a certain impression, your eyes are just a bit smokey, and your lips are sinfully red. It presents a certain picture.

"Are you tired, Tom?" you purr. "I hope not..."

He gulps, gaze hot and dark as he looks you up and down.

"I think I can stay awake a bit longer, love."

You take his hand and lead him to the bedroom, where the lights are low and sexy, and a touch of the perfume he loves on you scents the air. He starts to reach for you, but you step back and shake your head slightly, and he cocks his head curiously.

"Do you trust me?" you ask.

He laughs a little, nervously. "What kind of question is that?"

"I need to know," you tell him. "There's... there's something I want to try, but I have to know you trust me, and I have to know I can trust _you_ , too."

He looks at you and his eyes clear. "I trust you with my life, darling."

You kneel by the bed, feeling his eyes on you the whole time, and pull the bag out. He watches as you pull out a pair of padded cuffs.

"These are specially made," you explain. "They're designed not to hurt you unless you pull _very_ hard, and I don't intend for that to happen. They also have safety releases in case you ever need to get out of them quickly." You show him how they work, and his eyes follow you with an intensity that has you wet already and you haven't even touched each other yet.

Next you pull a blindfold from the bag. "A bit self-explanatory," you say. "You won't be able to see what I'm doing, but that can be very exciting."

He nods, standing very still.

"Is this something you want?" you ask, somewhat anxiously. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want--"

"I want it."

His voice is quiet but sure.

"Okay," you sigh, smiling. "So that we understand each other, if _anything_ I do makes you uncomfortable or hurts you, I need you to tell me and I'll stop immediately."

"You're not going to gag me, too?" he teases, licking his lips.

"No," you say, very seriously. "I want you to be able to communicate with me. This is about trust."

"Not to mention, I want to hear every dirty sound you make as I drive you crazy."

He gulps and the smile disappears, replaced by anticipation.

You turn to face him fully, squaring your shoulders, the look in your eyes changing to something predatory. His shoulders round a little and his breathing speeds up.

God, he was practically _made_ for this.

"Take off your shoes, one at a time."

He practically flings them off.

You click your tongue disapprovingly. "In the closet, Thomas." He hastens to obey. "Socks, too."

They end up in the hamper.

You take two steps forward, looking up at him from less than a foot away. "Take your shirt off. One button at a time. I want to enjoy the view."

He smirks just slightly, flattered by your frank appreciation, then he does as asked, eyes locked on yours. When his shirt is hanging open, you smooth your hands over his chest and he stills.

"You're a natural to this," you tell him. "You're doing so well, I'm tempted to reward you early."

While his breath rasps a little at that, you push the shirt off his shoulders and then slowly down his arms until it lies in a heap on the floor.

"Bend down a little," you say, then muss his hair when he does, fingers scratching his scalp lightly.

"I love your messy curls, babe." His eyes are practically glowing beneath his lashes. "I love that I make them so unruly when we're fucking."

You can tell he's having a hard time being still, so you take mercy on him. Slightly.

You reach for the button on his jeans, tugging him forward by the waistband until only a breath separates you, then undo it and unzip his jeans. Your eyes look over him appreciatively again, then you slip his boxers down his legs. He doesn't have to be told to lift his feet, practically scrambling to help.

He stands in front of you, naked and semi-hard already, and you lick your lips, smiling in a way that denotes pure sin.

"On the bed," you practically growl. "Get on your back."

He scrambles on top of the bedspread, uncharacteristically clumsy in his haste, and you try to slow your own breathing as you reach for the handcuffs. This may be a turn-on for Tom, but it's also incredibly hot for you.

Throwing one leg over his ridiculously attractive body, you straddle his lap, not giving his cock any friction yet.

Looking deep into his eyes for any hint of hesitation, you click the cuffs around one of his wrists. He nods, Adam's apple bobbing, and you hook the short chain around one of the headboard slats before cuffing his other wrist.

With his arms stretched over his head and his body laid out at your mercy, he makes a delectable picture. You can feel yourself getting wetter, and so can he, because you neglected to put on any panties under the skirt you're wearing.

He inhales sharply.

"Ohh, love," he groans, "you're killing me."

You smile wickedly. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

Leaning over to the side, you pick up the blindfold and hold it up. "I think you've seen enough for now."

His mouth snaps shut and a new heat enters his eyes just before you slip it over his silky curls.

Now that he is effectively blind, you lean over him, breath ghosting over his skin. He shudders. You nip his earlobe with no warning and he practically writhes on the bed as you lick and suck delicately, stimulating such a small point to such great effect.

Just as he settles, you swoop up to his mouth and suck his lower lip into your mouth, biting just a bit too softly to break the skin. He moans softly.

You let go of his lip just long enough to say, "Kiss me, Tom."

He surges up to meet your mouth, with none of the coordination you've come to expect from him. Blind, he kisses you deep and sloppy and desperate, tongue and teeth and lips working together in a chaotic symphony. You moan into his mouth audibly and he growls, trying to take control through the kiss.

You pull back and he follows you until the cuffs pull him back, then tries to thrust his hips up into you.

"Patience, Thomas," you admonish.

He's breathing heavily, lips wet and reddened. You grind down on him, lightly, and he groans as he instinctively tries to line up with your entrance, but you're having none of it, laying kisses and nips on his jaw and throat as you move downward.

You make sure to leave a deep purpling bruise right on his throat, where he'll have to go out of his way to conceal it, or just wear it proudly, announcing to the whole world that he belongs to you.

That thought has you licking his collarbone obscenely, drinking in his little gasps with satisfaction. You work your way down, licking into the creases of his abdomen and humming happily as you feel his stomach muscles tensing. You run your fingers over his thighs, then rub them gently as you breathe lightly onto the head of his cock.

He's still, so, so still as you keep him in suspense.

In one smooth motion, you engulf the head in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, hollowing your cheeks and sucking.

His head shoots up and a long, low groan escapes him.

You cup his balls gently in one hand and dig the fingers of your other hand into his hip as you begin sucking and licking in earnest. Tom's entire body is lined with tension, his breath coming in bitten-off gasps, and he manages to huff out, "Please, I'm going to--"

Your mouth lifts off of him and you send him a glare. He can _feel_ it, even blinded.

"Thomas," you say in a deadly whisper, "I have not given you permission to come."

"Wha-- oomph," he's cut off as you take him to the back of your throat, growling around his penis. His hands are clenched in fists as his entire back arches, clearly doing his best not to spill down your throat.

Such a good boy.

Taking pity on him, you release him with a _pop_ and move up his body, catching his lips in a filthy kiss. He kisses you back as if he can devour you somehow, hips rutting against yours helplessly. Tenderly, you cup his face in your hands and thread your fingers through his hair, and he sighs happily against your mouth.

You take the blindfold off gently, and his eyes are looking into yours, trust and love shining in them. You rub your thumb over his bottom lip and he smirks up at you.

"Please," he asks coquettishly, from under his lashes, "May I return the favor?"

He licks his lips and your hips tilt into his subconsciously as you grasp his meaning.

"Ohh, baby," you murmur, "you want me to sit on your beautiful face?"

He nods feverishly, and you get off the bed quickly, standing next to it. Tom growls deep in his throat, back arching off the bed as far as the cuffs will let him, and you let out a low chuckle, the sound more sin than amusement.

"Easy, babe. I'm overdressed."

With his eyes on you, you grasp the hem of your blouse and pull it off quickly, relishing the choked sound it prompts in him to see more of your skin. Then you reach behind your back and undo the clasp of your bra, breasts springing free and drawing his eyes like magnets as they sway gently.

Before he can recover from that particular sight, you're stepping out of the skirt, shimmery black fabric pooling to the floor to leave you naked and almost as exposed as he is.

He grins happily as you climb onto the bed, carefully straddling his face. You grab onto the headboard and avoid putting any of your weight on him, thighs burning lightly as you find a position that allows his mouth to reach you.

He licks through your folds with single-minded determination, using his tongue to gather and spread your wetness everywhere. Your eyes roll back a little when his tongue thrusts teasingly inside you. Quickly, he finds your clit and latches on, sucking and letting the tip of his tongue play over it. You scream at the suddenness of it and look down to see him staring up at you hotly.

He increases the pressure, and you think you're a goner, but then he _hums_ against your clitoris, and your legs are shaking and you can't stop gasping his name out and you're very close to falling on top of his face and he won't _stop_ \--

The orgasm crashes over you in a wave and you have to fall back away from Tom's lovely mouth, your whole body stinging from the loss. He protests too, grumbling, because he likes to try and get two orgasms or more out of you whenever he eats you out.

When you've had a few seconds to recover, you look down and see that he's still painfully hard. You straddle him once more, grinding down on his cock, and reach up to release him from the cuffs.

He rubs his wrists a little and looks up at you, waiting for instructions. You can't help giving him a deep, passionate kiss at the sight of that expression; it's so submissive and you're incredibly turned on by it. His hands stay at his sides as he kisses you back, making your head spin.

You pull back just enough to whisper against his lips, "You can touch me, Thomas. I want you to."

His hands skim over your sides, fingertips leaving tingling little trails in their wake, before he cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples. You throw your head back and moan, and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, replicating the technique he just used on your clit to pull you apart.

Your pelvis is rocking against his steadily now, the head of his cock slipping around your folds and occasionally raking over your clit.

He pulls back from your chest, clear need on his face, and asks, "Do you have a condom?"

You hesitate, because the two of you haven't discussed this before, but decide to take the plunge.

"I think there are some in the apartment somewhere," you tell him, "but we don't have to use one unless you want to."

He tilts his head curiously.

"I've been on birth control the whole time we've been together," you explain, "and I know we've both tested clean. I can even get the morning after pill tomorrow if you want."

He's very still, and you make your offer.

"Would you like to be inside me, with nothing between us?"

Suddenly he's sitting upright, with you in his lap.

"Yes," he breathes, before kissing you again, hands threading through your hair and cradling your head.

You let him do as he pleases for a moment, then put a hand flat on his chest and push him onto his back.

"Let me make you feel good," you tell him with a cheeky wink.

"Is this the part where I lie back and think of England?" he quips.

Without responding, you lift yourself, line up, and sink down on him until he's buried to the hilt inside you. He lets out a strangled groan, all attempts at humor abandoned.

His hands come up to grip your hips and you purr, looking down at him through eyes half-lidded in pleasure as you roll your hips and feel him deep inside you.

You try a couple of different angles experimentally, until you find one that hits hard and deep and is just on the right side of pain and pleasure.

Then you're off, finding a rhythm that's slow and deep and feels oh so good.

You can tell it's working for him, too, as he meets your pace and his fingers turn bruising on your hips. You set your hands on his chest for balance, nails digging in just slightly when he tilts his hips and finds that spot inside you.

His breaths are coming shorter and shorter, and you can feel your body winding up, so you grab one of his hands and set it on your clit, moving your hips faster. He gets the hint and starts rubbing circles, changing direction and speed often enough to keep you constantly stimulated.

You drag yourself almost off of him and then back down, and you feel warmth as he comes inside of you for the first time, his face contorting in the expression of pleasure only you get to see.

He rubs a little harder on your clit and you mewl as the second orgasm of the night takes you, collapsing on top of his chest. He keeps rubbing, a little gentler, easing you down from the peak, and you shudder out a sigh against his lightly sweaty skin.

The two of you don't move for a moment, breathing quietly and just enjoying the closeness of skin on skin. Then you pull back a bit and look into his eyes.

"Was it good for you as well?" you ask, teasing.

He kisses you soft and deep in answer.

"That was... amazing, love."

You smile blissfully at him, thrilled that your idea worked even better than you expected.

"Can I use those on you sometime?" he asks, and you're hot all over again.

Feeling how sticky the two of you are, you roll off the bed and offer him your hand.

"Let's discuss terms in the shower," you tell him as you lead him into the bathroom. "I feel an urge to get you clean."

"And then maybe dirty again."


End file.
